


FF7 Rare Pair Week 2018

by WandererRiha



Series: Haunted House [5]
Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Awkward Romance, F/M, Grownups being Grownups, Rare Pair, military love, nerd love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-18
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-20 22:23:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13727214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WandererRiha/pseuds/WandererRiha
Summary: A series of one shots done for FF7 Rare Pair Week 2018.





	1. Hobbies

One of very few personal items to survive the fall of Midgar was Sephiroth’s PHS; that and Angeal’s old Keepers of Honor sweatshirt. He would have been genuinely dismayed to lose either of said items. Although the phone was replaceable, what was on it was not. Every now and again the device prompted him to empty his photo cache as its memory was getting low. With the Shinra intranet still down and phone and internet service spotty at best, his poor phone was practically bursting. Rather than erase anything, he paid for a new memory card so that he wouldn’t have to lose anything. Before he swapped out the card, he paged through the images:  
Loz, Yazoo, and Kadaj playing a board game. Veld weaving a spell of saucepans and steam in the tiny apartment kitchen. Vincent standing tucked almost parallel to a doorway, arms and ankles crossed, but the barest hint of an actual smile on his face. Elfe in a rare quiet moment, multi colored strands of thread tangled in her fingers.  
There were more, dozens more. Zack and Aeris caught hand in hand, silhouetted against a sunset shop window. Genesis pouring over poetry of quite a different kind. Little Strife practicing forms with Angeal’s- now Zack’s- borrowed Buster sword.  
“Oh my gosh that’s adorable.”  
Sephiroth looked up sharply, all senses ratcheted to high alert, only to release his indrawn breath a heartbeat later. Elfe dropped down next to him, the better to see the tiny screen.  
“I don’t know art,” she commented, “but these are beautiful; more than just family snapshots. You have an eye.”  
“An Eye?” he repeated.”  
“For composition, gesture, lighting, you know, artsy stuff. I had no idea you were a photographer.”  
Sephiroth smiled. “Neither did I.”


	2. “We can make it through together!”/Defeating Challenges

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sephiroth and Elfe have each survived Geostigma, Guardian Summons, Jenova, and the Apocalypse. That’s nothing compared to this.

“Oh gods I can’t do this,” Sephiroth groaned, feeling ill.  
“I never thought I’d say this, but pull yourself together, man!” Genesis Commanded, seizing Sephiroth by the shoulders and shaking him slightly. “I’ve never known you to be afraid of anything.”  
“This is different,” Sephiroth insisted. “It isn’t like Wutai. I haven’t got a weapon. Even if I did, I couldn’t use it.”  
“Swords would be of no use here,” Genesis agreed. “Don’t tell me…?”  
Sephiroth shook his head. “No. No, I haven’t changed my mind. I knew there was no way around this, I just… I can’t face everyone _looking_ at me. At us.”  
“Think of it like an inspection,” Genesis suggested. “Nothing more than an overly elaborate change of command. Zack and I will be right there with you, and shortly, so will Elfe.”  
“Right,” Sephiroth said, gathering his resolve. There was no backing down now. He could do this. He would do this. They both would. “Have you got it?”  
Genesis grinned and held up a small silver ring. “Right here.”  
Sephiroth nodded as the music began, perfunctorily brushing down the front of his already immaculate dress uniform. “Right. Forward march.”


	3. You’re dating/friends with WHO?

“So...you and Sephiroth,” Veld began. “Gotta say, that’s not one I saw coming.”  
Elfe offered him an amused smile. “If it makes you feel any better, neither did I. I confess, it’s put something of a dent in my vigilante credentials.”  
“I dunno,” Veld mused. “Not like Sephiroth’s got ties to Shinra anymore; not the Shinra we knew, anyway.”  
“Rufus’s a good kid,” she agreed, still marveling a bit at her own words. “Not sure what it says when the kids are better at using their words like adults than the grownups.”  
Veld chuckled at this. “That’s because it’s all children have. They have no power, all they can do is try to convince the adults that they ought to do what they’re asked.”  
Elfe thought about this for a moment. “I guess that’s true. Either way, I’m glad we didn’t have to blow anything else up.”  
“Yeah, Jenova kinda did that for you.”  
Elfe looked at him sideways but Veld just shrugged.  
“So...no speech about how I could do better?” she challenged. “How you don’t think he’s good enough for me- or maybe how _I’m_ not good enough for _him?_ No comment about how we’re proceeding? No offer to defend my virtue?” She was mostly teasing, she and Veld had each thought the other dead for the last twenty-five years. Veld, however, just shook his head and gave her a surprisingly apologetic look.  
“Feli-- Elfe,” he began, catching himself, “I lost any right to advise you on how to live your life a long time ago. You’re a woman grown. We both know you’re capable of making your own decisions. You want my opinion, I’ll give it, but not unless you ask.”  
That took her aback and she fell silent for a moment.  
“What do you think of him? Of us?”  
Turning to face her fully, Veld smiled and took her hand in both of his. “I think you could not have picked a better man. Hell, I’m not sure there is a better man out there, unless you count Vince and he’s way too old for you.”  
That made her laugh. Veld went on.  
“I think the two of you work well together. You make a good team. Seems like he respects you and cares about what’s best for you. And if he ever makes you cry I will shoot him in the face myself, First Class SOLDIER or not.”  
Elfe smiled, amused, and squeezed his hands. “I don’t think that’ll be necessary, though I suppose it’s useful to have a Turk in the family should the need arise.”  
Veld smirked. “If you ever need a secret kept, you know where to find me.”


	4. Nature

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skipping ahead a bit...

Midgar had not been green in a long time. Sephiroth had never known a time when a six mile ring of desolation had not surrounded the city. That ring grew wider and wider with each passing year. Now that Jenova and countless reactors were no longer sucking up all available mako, however, the ground seemed to be making a rapid, if haphazard recovery. The city had flooded during the battle, and there were pools and puddles of mako still standing here and there. The soil touched by mako was now alive with weeds and wildflowers. Insects and animals were beginning to reappear as well. There were few horticulturalists in Midgar, and even fewer farmers. However, Elfe had rounded up every florist and gardener in her quest to restore natural life to the city.  
The Plate was not salvageable for living arrangements, but was deemed safe enough for green space. Already busy with rebuilding, the SOLDIERs and surviving members of the combined Shinra and Avalanche forces were additionally tasked with preparing land for growing food. Somehow, Aeris had ended up directing. Perhaps as the resident Cetra, people assumed she knew what the Planet would want done with its surface. Midgar had been green once, it would be again.  
Everyone took a turn working on the green spaces, the allotments, and building projects. It was not negotiable. Indeed, it wasn’t an option. There was too much to be done, and absolutely everyone was pulling double, if not triple duty. Sephiroth didn’t mind. It let him spend strength and energy that showed visible results at the end of the day. Being general meant that he often gave orders since he did not always have the option of doing the work himself. Digging in the dirt, shoulder-to-shoulder with Elfe brought a smile to his face for a reason he did not try to untangle.  
“We’re making progress,” he commented, straightening to stretch his back. Elfe had kidded him about having someone make extra-long custom handles for the farm tools. Average shovels, rakes, and hoes tended to be a bit short and slender for a SOLDIER’s hands.  
“Yeah,” she agreed, pausing in her own work.  
“Remind me what’s going in this area? I forget.”  
“Seed grass and some wildflowers to encourage the natural wildlife to return,” Elfe explained. “Plants can’t exist on their own. They need bugs and birds and other animals for pollination and spreading seeds.”  
“If you think the soil’s ready, I’ll fetch the seeds,” Sephiroth offered. The bags were heavy and cumbersome. Elfe might have been able to deal with the weight, but the darned things were floppy and lumpy; awkward to hold if one’s arms were not long enough.  
Elfe put one hand to her mouth and coughed. If not for the awkward flush that had arisen on her cheeks, he would have thought nothing of it.  
“What?” he asked. It wasn’t like Elfe to be flustered over much of anything. The minutiae of agriculture- insects, birds, small animals- hardly seemed something to be embarrassed about.  
Wait.  
It was his turn to give her a sideways look. Surprisingly, the color deepened in her cheeks and gave him an oddly hesitant little smile.  
“Wild flowers and seed grass aren’t the only things we’ll be growing.”


	5. Domestic Life

Veld blinked. He’d promised to come over to help wrangle the boys so that Sephiroth and Elfe could have five minutes to themselves. It seemed he’d arrived too late.  
The dishes were clean, if piled in an impressive stack in the dish rack. Homework appeared to have been completed- or at least begun- if the stacked books on the dining table were any indication. Toys and pieces of at least three different board games were strewn across the carpet. The boys, however, were nowhere to be seen. It was just after eight o’clock, the show was at nine. It was entirely likely they’d already been spirited off to bed.  
It appeared Elfe and Sephiroth had met a similar fate. The television was still flickering quietly, the volume almost too low to hear, tuned to the cartoon station. The adults weren’t paying it any attention whatsoever. Sephiroth lay sprawled with his back tucked in the corner of the ancient avocado sofa, his head lolling at an awkward angle over the back. Elfe lay slumped against him more by accident than intent, her head wedged rather than nestled in the curve of his neck and one arm slung carelessly across his lap. Both of them were deep, dead asleep.  
With a sigh, Veld smiled and shook his head. The poor kids just couldn’t catch a break. They needed to hurry up and get married if only to have a honeymoon so they could have some time to relax. Not that either of them knew the meaning of the word. Looking at his phone, Veld wondered if he ought to wake them?  
Nah.  
It wasn’t as if the Great General Sephiroth couldn’t get tickets whenever he wanted them. Some things were more important. They’d forgive him one missed date. As quietly as he could, Veld crept back out the door, locking it softly behind him.


	6. Meeting in Another World - AU - Crossovers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FFXV since that seems to be all the rage and it had been rumored at one point that Sephiroth might make a cameo. Still hoping he at least appears in the background as an NPC at the very least.

The Darkness had done nothing to lessen hostilities. Nifleheim was still bound and determined to possess anything and everything within reach. General Safay Roth had only just been inducted into the regular army as a lowly trooper when Tenebrae fell. One by one kingdoms had submitted, but now eternal night had spread over all. Suddenly, the Nifleheim empire was not everyone’s greatest concern.

It was a bit strange to suddenly repurpose troops and MTs for defense and security. He dared to think that people were actually becoming glad to see the troop transports. Not that it mattered to him what people thought about Nifleheim in general, or himself in particular. Orders were orders. End of story.

Except it was hard, sometimes, to justify them. Yes, order needed to be kept. Yes, the resistance needed to be stomped out. Yes, the Hunters was as necessary as they were troublesome. The beauty and the headache of the Darkness was that it hid so much. Indifferent to human machinations, it provided cover for one side as well as the other. Consequently, it was difficult to enforce order and subdue those plotting against the empire. Nobody could see what the heck they were doing.

Orders this time were to neutralize a suspected group of terrorists. They called themselves freedom fighters, of course, but not matter what they were called, the Empire perceived them as a nuisance that must be taken care of before they caused any trouble. This particular group of terrorists primarily functioned as a band of Hunters, performing many of the same services as the MTs: security, defense, and generally keeping the local population safe from the explosion of monsters.

And yet he was supposed to “neutralize” them.

It just seemed like such a waste. Why slaughter good men and women when really, they needed all the help they could get? Six knew how long this accursed Darkness would last. No one had found the damn ring yet and for all he knew, it would remain lost. But no one was asking him. It was not his place to think.  
The Haven made a rustically picturesque scene; a combination of street lamps and wood fires creating a warm, yellow circle of light around the tents and cabins, cars and trucks. There was even one battered old motorcycle.

Rather than barge in through the main entrance, he gave the order to have the troops circle around the Haven in a wide perimeter. Anyone who tried to run would be caught and held for questioning- provided they didn’t trying to fight. General Roth elected to enter the Haven via the conventional method himself, alone. Several heads turned to watch him pass, but he ignored them. They weren’t part of this. Instead, he headed for the small knot of men and women dressed in rough, and heavy clothes, obvious weapons resting near each of them. There were five total; a relatively small group. The others were likely off cleaning up or eating at the small attached diner.

“Good evening,” he said by way of introduction. All of them looked up, decidedly unimpressed expressions on each face.

“We under arrest?” one of the men asked.

“Should you be?” General Roth parried. “I’m here to discuss the definition of your roles within the Nifleheim Empire.”

“Yeah, I hear it’s got a _great_ retirement plan,” one of the women drawled.  
Genearl Roth permitted himself a small, humorless smile. “I would like to ask you all a few questions. If you would all come with me?”

He wasn’t sure how it was possible for a person to sit emphatically, but they each managed to do so, actively taking root to their seats.

“And if we don’t?” the woman challenged. General Roth looked down at her. She was average in every possible way there was: height, build, even her hair and eye color were unremarkable. It would be difficult to identify her in a line up, let alone a crowd. Only her eyes- which were an unusually clear blue- stood out as anything approaching remarkable.

“Then I’m afraid I will have to take you into custody.”

“You and what army?” she shot back, more sarcasm than anger. Was she honestly _goading_ him?

“I think you know the answer to that,” he replied calmly. “Now. If you would.”

It was not a question, but she made a great show of thinking it over.

“Nope!”

In a flash, all five of them had jumped up and darted past the ring of street lamps and into the darkness of the surrounding countryside. With a sigh, General Roth shook his head and gave chase at a much more sedate pace. Why did they always want to do it the hard way?  
Shouts echoed in the darkness as the Hunters encountered the MTs. He’d given orders to subdue only, but shots still rang out, and the clash of steel on steel was clearly audible. Suddenly the noise doubled, the sound of crunching metal joining the cacophony of battle. Damn it, the Hunters must have planned for something like this. There must be more of them out there. Surely the would not outnumber his own troops, but this wasn’t like cornering unarmed, untrained civilians, or even regular troops. Hunters were a breed apart.

Well, so was he.

Beyond the street lamps, the blackness was complete, but that was nothing to one enhanced with daemon blood. It might be dark, but he could see all that he needed to. One of them ran at him, weapon poised. The General drew his sword and prepared to engage. He blinked as rather than swing their own blade into his, they vaulted forward, springing off both hands and launching themselves at him feet-first. He reacted, but not quickly enough. She’d managed to pinch his head and neck between her legs, swinging her torso to throw them both off balance. He let the momentum carry them both to the ground, rolling just to get her off. Even in the dark, her blue eyes flashed; it was the woman from the campfire. Had she orchestrated this?

He wasn’t given time to consider further as she rushed him again. Perhaps he was out of practice. She was small and quick, darting closer than most would dare. Close enough- he realized- that he could not effectively use his sword to counter. Well, a sword was only a long bit of sharpened metal. The real weapon stood staring her down, eyes gleaming with a predatory light all their own. Sheathing his sword, he sank into a ready stance and beckoned.

That rattled her. Weapon poised, she stepped back. Yes, definitely the leader or at the very least the tactician. She was no fool, this one.

“We needn’t make this more complicated than it needs to be,” he said. “Regardless of what you may think, I have no desire to slaughter your men.”

“Forgive me if I have trouble believing that,” she retorted, voice dripping sarcasm.

“We’re all on the same side now that the sun is gone,” he reminded her. “Hunters have their place. You and your people are both useful and necessary. I had intended to offer you terms. You’re the one who staged an ambush.”

The dubious look had not left her face.

“You would be compensated for your efforts. A steady income is surely preferable to bounties and bartering for bones and pelts? It would be a confidential arrangement. You need not disclose where your funds come from. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and all of that. Right now, our common enemy is the darkness.”  
Battle still crashed and clattered on every side, both Hunters and MTs holding their own.

“Say the word, and I will call them off,” he promised.

Laughing, she shook her head. “I’m afraid I can’t make the same offer.”

General Roth sighed and nodded. “Well, I tried.”

Pulling his sword again, he met her as she charged.


	7. Free Day - Role Swap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> finesharp suggested Roleswap  
> Alright then.  
> ::cracks knuckles::  
> Well, before we can swap the children, we need to swap the parents...

First, Grimoire Valentine does not die. It’s a very near thing, but he doesn’t die. It’s enough to make Lucrecia rethink this whole Chaos business. She still studies, but decides that maybe prodding the Eldritch with sticks is a bad idea. She seals Chaos away, and sticks to theory, at least for now. Besides, she’s pregnant. She has bigger things to worry about.

Vincent steps up and does the honorable thing. Veld, who does not have a young family to worry about, is sent to the mountains. He does not return. Vincent does his best to investigate, but he is distracted by his new duties as Chief. Tally was going to pick either Veld or himself to succeed her, and with Veld gone, Vincent is the only choice.He can’t help thinking that he’s a fraud, that this role should have gone to his partner and best friend, but he resolves to try to do the best he can since Veld isn’t here to do it himself. It’s a promise he makes to himself, his wife, and his new son. They name him “Seth”, after Lu’s father. Vincent doesn’t like the direction Shinra politics are going. He moves his young family to Kalm, where it will surely be safer.

He is wrong.

When Seth is three, the bombs fall. Vincent will forever wonder if the fire was meant for him. It doesn’t kill him, but it does leave him broken and scarred. He loses his wife, his sons, and his left arm. Yes, “sons”. Lu was pregnant for the second time. Like Veld, Vincent tries to find them, tries to at least obtain their remains, but he is unsuccessful. The four ghosts haunt him all through his tenure, until he sees one of them reappear on an intelligence feed. His heart nearly stops.

AVALANCHE has become a thorn in Shinra’s side, constantly sabotaging mako reactors and other corporate expansion. He knows that face. It’s his own, framed by Lu’s brown hair. He’s calling himself “Sephiroth”, but that’s Seth. He’d stake his right arm on it. Their sources say AVALANCHE is heading toward Corel, to wreck the unfinished reactor being built there. Under any other circumstances, Vincent might let the kids handle it. He’s too old to do more than call orders from behind a desk. But this is his son. He is going. Let anyone try to stop him.

Shinra has their own ideas.

Their greatest weapon has recently returned home from overseas. Without her and her brothers in arms, the Wutai War might have gone very differently. General Elfe, the Demon of Wutai, will surely make short work of these upstart eco-terrorists.

Twenty-five years ago, Gast and Ifalna had come home with Hojo, a baby, and not much else. General Elfe was supposed to be the first Cetra to walk Gaia in many millennia. However, she never heard the voice of the Planet. She did, however, prove exceptionally good at killing things. She was put into the military instead, and became the first SOLDIER; the only known female to tolerate the treatments. She isn’t tall or broad like Genesis or Angeal, but she can more than hold her own. There had been a time when others scoffed at her because of her size, because of her gender. Everyone knows better than to laugh now. Her silver-white hair cut boy-short and dressed in a leather jacket that nearly sweeps the ground, only her vibrantly blue eyes provide any color to her look. It is an aesthetic built to intimidate, to serve as a warning. If the hint is not taken, there is always the Wutaian longsword on her back to drive the point home.

Vincent is there to witness the faceoff in the mountains. He wants so desperately to step between them, to call Seth’s name, but he is too far away. Perhaps it’s just as well. He might well make things worse. He thinks about taking aim at Elfe’s platinum head. Thinks about at least grazing her to save his son. Fingers the trigger. But then they’ve drawn steel and are moving too fast for him to track. He could not have taken a shot if he wanted to.

They prove oddly well-matched. Seth has his height, his long reach, and Elfe is freakishly fast and strong. Against all odds, Seth sends her sprawling in the dust. There is a palpable moment of dead silence as she picks herself up, sweeping the dust from her jacket. Seth just stares, as if he cannot comprehend what he’s just done. Elfe raises her sword to him and smiles; a salute to a worthy opponent. Rather than slaughter him and his men where they stand, Elfe beckons to hers and retreats. Vincent feels himself wilt with relief.

He surprises him later. Seth catches a glimpse of him on the catwalk above the reactor.

“Dad?” he asks, features an agonizing mix of surprise and disbelief.

Vincent is sure the same look is etched on his own face. Abruptly, Seth crumbles, and his second hurries to catch him. The mission goes to hell shortly after that, but his kids get away safe, and Seth is with him again and that’s really all he cares about. At this point, Shinra can go fuck itself. Repeatedly. With a large, unlubricated object. He has his son again. Nothing else matters. Tseng, bless him, agrees to provide cover, and spread the story of the Chief’s death. Vincent passes the mantle to Tseng, giving him what blessing he can:

“Good luck, kid. You’re gonna need it.”

Seth is disoriented, confused, and justifiably angry. Between the two of them, they piece together what happened. After the fire, Seth and Lu had been treated at Old Midgar General. There, he received a materia shard to keep his severely burned left hand from deteriorating any further. According to Shinra, Lu died before giving birth. Seth has tried to look into it himself, but his access to Shinra’s records is limited. As far as he knows, she did die of her injuries, his little brother perishing with her before he’d ever had a chance to live. As a memoriam, they name him “Nero”, after Vincent’s grandfather. It’s something.  
Seth holds the hand with the materia up to Vincent’s prosthetic left hand.

“You know it’s killing me,” he says.

There are four shards total. One is not enough, he needs all four to keep stable. His tactician had some ideas as to where to find them. Vincent resolves to find them all or die trying. They already have one shard, courtesy of the second, Shears. The tactician, Fuhito, points them north: Nibelheim.

To be honest, Vincent smells a set-up. Paranoia has kept him alive this long, and he doesn’t see any reason to stop being suspicious of everyone and everything just because he’s listed as “killed in action”. However, he’s long wanted to examine the old Shinra mansion himself. The lab is in the basement, and he and Seth go down, down, down the stairs to where this thrice-cursed mess started. It’s not the lab they need to examine.

The crypt had been used as an ersatz storage area for things that would not be affected by the mold of dry bones: paperclips, glass beakers and bottles, mops and brooms, and other generic office supplies. There is a fresh seal on one of the coffins, which suggests it’s the one they want. The others are in a state of significant disrepair. This is the only one that’s truly intact. Between the two of them, they chip away at the lead. Seth lifts the lid and Vincent barely manages to repress a shout.

It’s Veld. Oh dear gods, it’s Veld. Vincent sinks to his knees beside the coffin, unable to tear his eyes from the gray, scarred face. The reports were true, then. Killed in action. He starts as a hand comes to rest on his shoulder.

“Dad?” Seth asks. Vincent takes a deep breath and tries to pull himself together. He doesn’t have much success.

“That’s your Uncle Veld,” Vincent tells him, voice strangled to the barest whisper by his held tears. “He was my partner. My best friend. He should have been Chief, not me.”

“Dad...it wasn’t your fault.” Despite calling him ‘dad’, this is the first tenderness Seth has shown toward him.

 _Yes it is,_ Vincent thinks. _It should have been me._

But his son is still breathing, standing here next to him, alive and ill and they need to do something about that. There is a faint glow coming from beneath Veld’s clasped hands. With long fingers nimble as a thief's, Vincent extracts what they’ve come for: the third Zirconiade shard. Seth lowers the coffin lid and they both stand silent for a moment. In his head, Vincent chants a sutra to guide Veld’s soul to the Lifestream. Beside him, Seth does the same. He does not know the details, but it’s closure of a sort. He can stamp Veld’s file as “Case Closed” and file it away to be buried as well. He asks Tseng to alert him if Nibelheim ever comes up again. There are things buried there besides Veld.

Finding the fourth shard causes something of a fiasco. Evidently the tactician had ideas of his own. Seth and the kids are able to overpower him, but it’s a very near thing. Fuhito dies, Seth lives. Mostly. Vincent takes him home, such as it is. Seth is ill enough to allow this. They build something more like a friendship than father-son. Vincent will take it.

Tseng contacts him. Shinra has sent Elfe to Nibelheim, ostensibly to investigate the old reactor. Tseng is reasonably sure this is not the only reason. He smells a set-up, but for what purposes, he doesn’t know. Vincent looks at Seth.

“You up for a road trip?”

Seth nods. He is.


End file.
